


you bought some sweet sunflowers and gave them to the night

by heybernia



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Multi, now with added ot3!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybernia/pseuds/heybernia
Summary: It’s the petals themselves, how they’re two vastly different shapes, one small and round, the other long and thin, and how they’re two different colours, the round one a mellow shade of orange and the thin one a yellow that’s somehow almost gold.Alex stares at them until he starts to cough again.





	you bought some sweet sunflowers and gave them to the night

**Author's Note:**

> all of the warnings have to do with the trope involved which you can read about [here](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease), but to be safe, there's blood, vomiting and death, specifically a lot of someone who's accepting of their own death. if there are any other warnings needed, please tell me in the comments.
> 
> the title is from [sunflower by low](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7Qd0mbji0U) which i highly encourage you to listen to.
> 
> thanks to aimee for reading it over, you're the best <3

It takes the first appearance of the petals for Alex to realise he’s in love.

He doesn’t know who he’s in love with exactly, but he has an idea because it’s probably Phil or Jér. Alex could do much worse than being in love with either of them, always sweet Phil who lets Alex use his shoulder as a pillow during roadies or soft underneath the smirks Jér who always seems to have Alex’s favourite drinks and snacks on hand.

That doesn’t make having the disease any easier but at least there’s ways to deal with it. Best case scenario, it turns out they return his feelings and the disease will go as quickly as it came; worst case scenario, Alex goes under and has the surgery to remove the disease at the roots. The love will be gone but that’s the price you have to pay to breathe easily.

Anyway, it’s funny how it all takes for Alex to start coughing is talking to them in the team group chat while he’s ignoring the homework sitting on his desk.

He puts his phone down so he can cover his mouth, trying to dislodge whatever’s stuck in his chest, only feeling relief when he has a couple of petals in his hand to show for it.

Alex looks at them for a moment, then moves his hand so it’s closer to the lamp illuminating the desk. He can see a couple small spots of blood but that’s not what’s made him need a closer look. It’s the petals themselves, how they’re two vastly different shapes, one small and round, the other long and thin, and how they’re two different colours, the round one a mellow shade of orange and the thin one a yellow that’s somehow almost gold.

Alex stares at them as his phone continues to buzz on the table. Alex stares at them until he starts to cough again. The tight feeling in his chest doesn’t come up with the petals, it stays lodged in between his ribs.

*

The problem isn’t that Alex is in love with the both of them. That he can actually deal with. That’s the part that makes the most sense.

Alex can’t imagine a world where he loves one over the other.

Unfortunately, Alex can certainly imagine a world where they do. He doesn’t need to though, considering how he lives in it.

Alex is glad he found out before he told them about the flowers though. In the long run, it’s probably for the best that Alex catches them kissing in a secluded corner after his trip to the team doctor who had just told him what he had guessed, that she wasn’t sure if anything could be done about the disease or if it was worth trying any of the treatments.

They haven’t seen him, too wrapped up in each other, literally, arms winded tight around the other's back, leaving no room between them, dressed in workout gear and giggling in between kisses.

Alex darts away to the nearest bathroom and kneels with his head over the toilet until the toilet water is an unquestionable shade of pink. He flushes it away, then washes his mouth out of the feel of petals and the taste of metal.

It must be new, Alex thinks as he walks to the gym. It has to be, that or he was too focused on how they looked at him to realise how they looked at each other.

Jér’s in the gym. He smiles and waves at Alex when he sees him and kicks Alex’s ankle when he comes to sit next to him on the stationary bike, and Alex determinedly does not stare at the line of Jér’s jaw which he saw Phil mouth at.

“Where have you been?” Jér asks, like he’s been here waiting for Alex.

“Medical room,” Alex says, and then to smooth out the frown lines on Jér’s forehead, “Just some pain in my knee. I must have tweaked it, it's nothing to worry about.”

Jér nods and bumps Alex’s shoulder. “Should you really be on the bike then?” Jér asks, no trace of a smirk for once.

“It’s a good seat,” Alex says, trying to bite back his smile at seeing the corners of Jér’s mouth start to lift.

“So, you’re just here for the seat and not for the good company,” Jér says.

“Yeah, well, the company can’t be that good if you’re the only person here,” Alex says. Jér’s smile grows even more and his eyes are crinkling as he tells Alex about how he's great company, not least of all because Jér has much better chirps then that.

Alex is impressed with how he keeps his feelings hidden and how not a single blossom falls out until Jér is long gone.

*

During the summer, it’s actually easy to forget he’s in love with them. The petals don’t appear very often and when they do, there is only a few, like they’re just there to remind Alex about his feelings.

Jér comes back from the summer having been drafted to Boston, now with an A on his jersey and a face that’s all sharp cheekbones. Phil comes back from Philadelphia with an ELC signed with his name and a spring in his step, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples more often.

Alex congratulates Phil in person the first chance he gets, watches fascinated as Phil’s face turns a lovely shade of red and he smiles sheepishly.

“Thanks, Forts,” Phil says in his soft voice. After a moment of biting his lip, Phil carries on, “You’re going to get signed next, I know it.”

Alex smiles back at him, compelled by Phil’s own, and holds back the petals from pouring out of his mouth. Manages to keep from telling Phil the reason why any team won’t sign him now regardless of how well he plays are the petals coating the inside of his lungs.

Alex was the first to arrive back in Rouyn and he has nothing new, nothing interesting, just handful after handful of flowers stained with his blood.

*

Over the course of the year, days where Alex doesn’t have to cough and spend long whiles standing over sinks and bins start to disappear which is the one thing the doctors did tell him would happen. That he probably wouldn’t have as much time as people normally do because, well, everything is doubled.

Alex is fine with it though.

Phil and Jér are in love with each other and not with him and Alex is fine with it, honestly.

Alex’s body isn’t, is trying to kill him over it and will one day succeed, but Alex is okay with it. He has to be, he wants nothing more than for them to be happy and there’s nothing they can do about loving someone else, about not loving him.

See, the thing is Phil and Jér still care about him. They clearly do, they still spend time with him and do all of the little things they used to do, maybe even do a little more. Nothing’s really changed, they still care about Alex and that’s why Alex can’t let them know.

It’s not fair to put the weight of this on their shoulders, even if that means leaving Alex to choke on words wrapped in flowers and their leaves and their roots in his throat.

The last thing Alex wants is to give them bouquets dripping with blood and have them be left holding them once he’s gone. No vase would be enough to make them worth putting on display.

*

Alex is happy.

Alex is so fucking happy. They’ve won the President’s Cup without Jér, won it for him, they’ve spent the whole year playing real fucking good hockey, Alex has been playing really fucking good hockey, and now they’ve got a shot at the Memorial Cup.

He can’t think of a better way to go out.

He’s not sure how much time he has left exactly but he’ll be lucky to last until summer’s end, he thinks. The petals he brings up are mostly actual flowers now, misshapen and in bits that are difficult to rid himself of and leave him exhausted after.

It’s worth it though. It’s worth it because he’s able to still play hockey and he gets to experience this, surrounded by all of his teammates, their drunken happiness filling the air.

Someone giggles loud enough to be heard over the music and Alex was already looking in the direction of who made it, was already looking at Phil and Jér squeezed into a loveseat, bright and happy and beautiful, because they draw Alex in, they always do, like he’s the flower and they’re the sun.

Speaking of flowers, Alex needs to go to a bathroom, like, right now. Nature calls.

He almost trips over JC who's starfishing on the floor when he stands up which has to be why he sees Phil and Jér stare at him before he leaves the room.

Trying to find the bathroom is an experience because he can’t exactly remember whose house they’re actually in and the petals are crawling up his throat, filling up his mouth, and Alex doesn’t want to be left cleaning up flowers and blood off the plush carpet.

He does find it thankfully and manages to shut the door just in time before he’s coughing up violently into the sink, supporting himself on the counter as the pile grows in size, a mess of petals and blood that looks like a flower arrangement gone wrong.

Then, suddenly, there’s something stuck in his throat that won’t come out no matter how hard he coughs, and Alex is starting to panic, struggling to breathe as the light sneaking under the door seems to fade. Maybe he didn’t have as much time as he thought.

There’s a few gentle knocks on the door. “Forts?” Phil’s voice calls. “You okay?”

Alex wants to tell him he is, would do anything to keep Phil from coming in but whatever it is is still lodged in his throat, and he can’t get enough air to breathe never mind to speak, and this can’t be happening, not now, he didn't have to last for much longer.

“Forts? Alex?” Phil asks, clearly worried. He twists the door handle and starts to push it open and Alex tries to tell him not to come in but he wheezes instead, starts up another round of coughing as the lights get flicked on, then, there's a gasp that’s followed by a hard smack in between his shoulder-blades that’s enough to jolt whatever it is free.

Alex reaches up into his mouth and pulls it out by hand. It’s a single whole flower, made up of layers and layers of the soft orange petals on top of each other, somehow springy enough to still have its shape. It’s still beautiful, unfortunately.

Alex picks off one of the petals, takes in a few breaths to slow his heart down before he turns around to face Phil and find his entire face frozen in shock. He keeps on looking between the mirror behind Alex where he must be able to see the petals in the sink, the flower in Alex’s hand and Alex’s mouth. Alex wipes at it with the back of his hand, not surprised when he finds blood.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says quietly, closing his fingers over the flower, tempted to crush it or drop it on the floor or put it back into his mouth and swallow it back down, anything to hide it from view.

“Forts, why didn’t you?” Phil asks, stopping suddenly. Alex isn’t sure what he’s asking exactly, if it’s _why didn’t you tell me,_ _why didn’t you get surgery_ , _why didn’t you do something earlier_ , and any answer Alex can give isn’t going to be good enough but Phil deserves one at least.

“Because you’re one of the people I’m in love with,” Alex says simply. 

Phil seems to stop breathing despite his mouth hanging open.

Now that the flower has come out, the words come easy, easier than Alex ever thought they would. “I’m in love with you and I’m in love with Jér, so I’ve got two sets of petals and flowers in my lungs instead of one. There’s nothing anyone can do about it because no one knows what to do with this variation, so there’s not really an option for me. I'm just waiting it out now.”

Phil says nothing. Alex watches as, slowly, Phil’s face starts to crack, revealing some kind of pain underneath, blinking rapidly and throat shifting as he tightens his hands into fists.

“How long?" Phil asks, voice trembling slightly.

“Over a year,” Alex says. “Before playoffs started.”

Eventually, after a stretch of silence, Phil says, “Alex,” all watery, eyes glossy with tears, and this is why Alex didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want either of them to know. He didn’t want to see them beating themselves over him and his feelings, especially not today of all days when they should be nothing but happy.

“It’s okay,” Alex says, sounding surprisingly steady. “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“No, it’s not,” Phil says, tears threatening to spill over.

Alex goes to say something but a few more petals fall out instead of words, the coughing jostling the sharp pain in his chest, and all that does is make Phil actually start to cry, the tears falling down from the corners of his eyes. Phil steps forward to wrap himself around Alex, enveloping him, and folds himself down to tuck his face into Alex’s shoulder.

Phil smells mostly like alcohol and sweat with a hint of the freshness of his shower gel. He’s warm everywhere, contrasting with how his tears are cool against Alex's skin. Alex, after a moment’s hesitation, starts to rub strokes up and down Phil’s broad back which makes Phil let out more sobs.

“Alex, I--” Phil whispers, but the door pushes open and the music from downstairs floods into the bathroom before he can say anything else.

“So, this is where you two have been hiding, I’ve been looking--” Jér starts to say but cuts himself off when Phil lets of go of Alex and turns around, sliding his hand down Alex’s arm so he can twine their fingers together.

Jér’s face seems to go through so many expressions as his eyes go back and forth between them and their hands. It’s clear when Jér finally notices the flowers in the sink though, because his eyes go wide and he lets out the smallest hurt noise possible.

“Alex,” Jér says, filled with some sort of emotion. “Why--who are you in love with?”

Alex licks his lips. “You and Phil,” he says. Phil tightens his grip on Alex’s hand.

Jér’s eyes impossibly grow even wider. He goes to say something but stops, and it’s like what happened with Phil all over again with Jér’s shock giving way in favour of pain and anguish, and Alex hates the fact he’s hurting them so much.

Jér digs his palms into his eyes and holds them there. “Have you told him?” Jér asks, voice strained.

“No,” Phil says, quiet and hoarse. Alex can’t read Phil’s face or what’s happening here, he’s too busy trying to keep the flowers down.

Jér drags his hands down his face and takes a deep breath while his fingers hide his eyes. “Okay,” he says.

Jér moves his hands off his face and reaches to take Alex’s other hand, the one with the flower in it, in his and starts to rub his thumb across the side of Alex's, the movement small.

“Alex,” Jér starts, as serious as Alex can ever remember him sounding. “I love you.”

“I do too, I love you,” Phil says, just as serious.

Alex feels like he should be choking. That there should be something needing to come up and something he needs to clear his lungs off but there’s nothing. Nothing there at all. All there is inside him are butterflies fluttering all around.

“You mean it,” Alex says, mostly to himself, glancing between them.

Jér squeezes his hand. “Yeah, we do,” he says. “I promise we do, we love you so much.”

“We do,” Phil echoes, giving Alex a squeeze as well.

Alex isn’t thinking right now, he can’t hear his thoughts over the rush of air swirling through his body, flavoured with love and tenderness. He feels like he can’t get enough of it, he’s never going to be able to get enough of knowing how Phil and Jér feel about him.

“I love you both so much,” Alex says, dripping only with affection and a tear or two, no blood or petals in sight.

Jér lifts Alex’s hand up, prises it open to take the flower out of it, and then closes it again before pressing a kiss to Alex’s knuckles, unconcerned about the blood on them, and hands the flower to Phil who puts it on the edge of the sink, and leans in to give Alex a kiss into his hairline.

No one notices when the flower falls off the edge and hits the ground, they’re too busy wrapping themselves around each other, the roots of love taking over and beginning to bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> only cameo in this fic goes to jean-christophe beaudin so congratulations to him
> 
> thank you for reading this i hope you enjoyed it <3
> 
> i only remembered this trope existed on monday and then i wrote the bulk of this in four and a half hours so that's what was happening there. i would also like to apologise to phil in this because within a month, jer takes a skate blade to a neck and he learns that alex has hanahaki disease so he is not having a fun time of it.
> 
> i'm on twitter [@attababehisch](https://twitter.com/attababehisch) which is the place to be if you want to see someone cry about jeremy lauzon.


End file.
